


The Fear-Monger

by PrincessMidnaofTwilight



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akuma Possession, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6600607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMidnaofTwilight/pseuds/PrincessMidnaofTwilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of what happens after the two crime-fighting teens have been fighting together for one year and an akuma-related attack results in the admittance of Chat Noir's feelings to Ladybug. (So long as ideas continue to surface, this story will too, mostly LadyNoir but could lead to Adrienette as well.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Power of Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write this as a response to magicallynormal’s writing prompt (on tumblr) that I simply couldn’t resist. I was in need of a good binge write, and had an even greater need for more Miraculous Ladybug in my life. I hope you guys enjoy my fangirl rambles.
> 
> P.S. I am aware that new episodes in season one have rendered some of the things I have written obsolete, since I wrote this long before season one ended.

The sun approached the horizon with practiced indolence, as if to grant the sleeping young girl an extra moment of rest with what little it could spare for the silent hero of Paris. The light of dawn lit the lavender room with a soft brilliance, shining over her sleeping form with a measured cadence. The mild rays of gold enveloped her gradually, slanting across her form until the illumination reached her closed eyelids. A deep breath heralded the rise of a cobalt head of hair, in slight disarray due to unintentional slumber, yet still tied back into two signature ponytails framing her face. Eyes the color of bluebells fluttered, somewhat bloodshot and engulfed in mauve shadows, not unlike the familiar blossoming of bruises. With a groan her head fell back on her folded arms and tablet, leaden with sleep-deprivation and exhaustion. She didn’t even have the energy to stare at the photo of Adrien on the wall before her with dreamy appreciation.

“Marinette! Wake up! Or you’ll be late for school again!” Tikki called from her elbow, nudging her awake with infinitesimal, insistent hands.

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut tighter before blinking. “Hm? Oh!” 

After a number of garbled murmurs and protests Marinette bolted upright, shaking off her incapacitating stupor to dash about the room in preparation for school. It wasn’t long before a presentable, though haggard Marinette wrenched the front door open with a quick _au revoir_ to her parents and their startled customers. Cramming her breakfast, a freshly baked croissant, in her mouth she jogged to school in the brisk chill of the spring morning, determined to be on time. _Please don’t be late, please don’t be late._ She chanted like a mantra as she neared the school building. She arrived just in time to see Alya, Nino, and Adrien ascending the steps to attend first period.

When she was within a few feet, Alya turned with a knowing smile at the doors and an indulgent shake of her head.

“Girl, you need to stop staying up so late. C’mon, you’re just in time.”

She ran up the steps and followed her down the hall. “I know, I’m sorry. Did I miss anything Adrien-related?”

“No, he was just talking to Nino as per usual. I managed to keep Chloe busy.” Alya waved her off but her devious smile made Marinette nervous. “Now don’t you change the subject on me, what had you up so late?” 

Marinette held up her tablet, her default excuse when crime-fighting was the true culprit. “History essay. I haven’t had a chance to work on it all week so I had to finish it last night.”

“Makes sense.” Alya nodded, “Just promise me you won’t lose sleep over Adrien, we’ll get you there girl. I’ve got you covered.” She added with a wink.

Marinette cringed. “I don’t even want to know what you’re scheming.”

As they took their seats on the bench behind Adrien and Nino, all she received in response was a smirk and a pair of lifting brows. Marinette laid her head on the desk, dreading what was to come. She knew resistance was futile. Alya was already watching the two boys intently, waiting for an opening in their amiable conversation. When she did, she pounced.

“So guys, if you don’t mind me interrupting, what do you think about a double date tonight?”

Nino perceived her intentions with immediate precision. “Sure thing, I’m game. Hey Adrien do you mind if you go with Marinette, as friends, with us? No pressure or anything, but a double date sounds like fun.”

Adrien smiled with a nonchalant shrug, concealing his bubbling excitement. He wouldn’t have to go back to that empty house sooner than he’d like, and he would be with his friends, no less. “That does sound like fun, count me in. I don’t mind if Marinette doesn’t, of course.” He directed a shy smile to the blushing girl above him, his arm reaching to the nape of his neck sheepishly.

“I don’t m-mind.” She managed to say, for once able to articulate herself in his presence. Perhaps it was due to the amount of time they had spent with each other lately, during the video game competition and her uncle’s arrival to Paris. Whatever it was, she thanked her rarely lucky stars.

“It’s settled then! We can decide a venue later, is it okay if we meet up at the bakery at say, five o’clock? That will give everybody some time to prepare after school.” Alya suggested.

After a trio of affirmations, Nino and Adrien were soon immersed in conversation again when Alya turned smiling like the Chesire cat. Or worse, like a certain cat-themed hero that dubbed himself the cat’s meow. 

“Somebody’s got a date with Adrien.” She singsonged in Marinette’s ear, careful to keep her voice down.

Marinette grinned and hugged Alya tightly. “You’re the best Alya! Thank you!”

Warm arms reciprocated. “Anytime, Marinette. But I will tax you in baked goods.” 

Marinette pulled back, laughing as the instructor entered the room. “Feel free.”

“Good morning class! Time to begin, please take out your history textbooks and turn to page--”

Each bench of students turned to attention while Marinette daydreamed of the date to come, each class period passing in a state of both fantasy and reality. 

When school ended the four gathered at the front steps to reaffirm their attendance to the double date later that evening before each departed to their respective homes. Adrien, as always, was retrieved by his father’s limousine and Nino now walked home with Alya. However, a certain best friend of Alya’s had transitioned from a state of enchanted glee to hysterics, demanding her assistance and therefore presence on the way home.

“Oh no Alya, you have to help me! What on Earth am I going to do? What am I going to wear? How will I stop myself from becoming an incoherent puddle at his feet like I always do? This is going to be a disaster.” Marinette groaned as they walked, her head falling into her hands. “Just forget it. Tell Nino to tell Adrien that I can’t go.”

“Oh no you don’t, girl, this is the chance of a lifetime. I am _not_ letting you pass this up. Just take a deep breath, okay? You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to help coach you through it too, or if there happens to be a mix-up. ” Alya reassured, placing an arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Asked Marinette, defeated.

“Positive. Now come on,” Alya said while opening the front door to the best bakery in Paris, “We need to get you ready to dazzle Adrien.”

* * *

 

It was five-thirty and Nino, Alya, and Marinette were still waiting outside the bakery. Alya was fuming, tapping away at her phone. Nino was pacing, throwing nervous glances at his girlfriend while trying to think of a reason why his best friend would be so late. Marinette stared at the floor, knowing that the arrangement had been too good to be true. Maybe his father had decided not let him go. After all, Nino had mentioned Mr. Agreste’s stranglehold on his son’s life, forbidding all leisure activities Adrien proposed, much like his disastrous birthday party earlier that year.

 _Or maybe_ , her subconscious proposed, _he didn’t want to be roped into a date with you. Sure he was amiable enough at school, but wasn’t he obligated to be polite? After all, Nino and Alya are now a package deal. As her best friend, he would exhibit the proper decorum and kindness towards you for Nino’s sake._

“Hey guys? Please go on without me. I really don’t want to keep you, and I certainly don’t want to be a third wheel. Go enjoy your date.”

“Marinette are you sure? We can wait for a few more minutes--” Alya looked up from her phone, communicating with her eyes that she wanted to help make this happen, no matter how long it took.

Nino felt much the same after all that Marinette had sacrificed to let him be with Alya. Not to mention how excited she had been to be a part of this date. His heart went out to her. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s on his way, something probably just came up and--”

“Thanks, guys, but I’ll be fine. Really! I have to work on my particle physics project anyway. I’m a little behind in the class what with how busy I was this week.” Seven akumas and counting, and it was only Friday.

“But--” Alya immediately tried to protest.

“No butts! Only buns in this place. Now you two lovebirds go have fun!” Marinette giggled as she pushed the two out of the store, determined to let them indulge in their night together. Laughter bubbled at her play on words, trying to imagine Chat Noir’s subsequent grin and lifting brows before her mind returned to Adrien’s absence. Leaning against the front door, she let herself slide down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on bent knees. She was such a fool for placing so much faith into a double date.

A tiny laugh escaped her lips, her chest constricting as she thought of the confused and somewhat repulsed expressions Adrien had showcased at the sight of her incomprehensible responses to a simple greeting. Of course he didn’t come, she was just the weird girl in his class that hid from him and made no sense on a daily basis. He was a _model_ for crying out loud, he was more than capable of finding a superior date. Somebody just as attractive, charming, and sweet as he was no doubt. Somebody that could speak to him without stumbling over words. Somebody he felt comfortable confiding in whenever something brewed behind his polite smiles. Somebody worthy of him. 

Scrubbing away the traitorous tears that had lined her cheeks unbidden, she washed her face in the bathroom carefully before ascending the stairs. Studiously ignoring her parents and their imminent invasive questions at the sight of her dressed in a skirt, she was halfway up to her room before she overheard the news channel they often watched as they waited for the last influx of customers.

“Chat Noir was spotted near the Eiffel Tower moments ago, fighting what appeared to be another supernaturally created criminal, turning the citizens of Paris into grotesque stickers. What was most shocking, however, was not the blinding pink appearance of the culprit but the fact that Chat Noir’s partner, Ladybug, has yet to arrive at the scene to assist her onyx compatriot. What will the valiant hero do without the assistance of--”

Marinette climbed the remainder of the stairs and closed the door behind her, clicking open her purse to free Tikki. She supposed it was too much to hope for a peaceful night after getting her heart crushed.

Tikki shot up without delay. “What’s wrong, Marinette?” There was a short pause before she added. “Have you been crying?”

“No time to explain Tikki, Chat Noir needs our help right now! Spots on!” Marinette commanded, eager to help Chat to ease both her conscious and think about something other than today’s recent date debacle.

Tikki was only able to shoot Marinette a concerned look before she transformed her into Ladybug, one that suggested a discussion was going to follow tonight’s excursion. One in which her guts would be spilled and Tikki would offer her a plethora of advice and encouragement that she greatly appreciated. But in that moment, she didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to partake in the catharsis that was saving Paris from another wretched akuma.

And yet it appeared she would not have the satisfaction of her heroic duties. When Marinette arrived at the Eiffel Tower, Chat Noir stood rather triumphantly over what appeared to be an akumatized young girl beneath the colossal landmark. She resembled a student from Marinette’s school named Rose, who had an overt interest in scrapbooking and anything related to stickers, sparkles, and the color pink. Her hair was a disconcerting shade of highlighter yellow, dyed hot pink at the ends fringing her forehead to complement her equally blinding face paint. Her clothing was a strange array of colors, like a deranged rainbow had possessed the cloth; each color was irregularly shaped and matched. Under her arm was a book half her size filled to the brim with the pictures of civilians she had possessed that afternoon and stickers she had made out of the surrounding scenery. She was presently trapped by Chat Noir’s staff and a number of rusted bars likely removed from the icon of the city. 

“You’re just in time Milady. I am in need of your impurresive purrifying powers. Care to join me?” He extended the hand that held a gaudy pair of scissors with a graceful bow of his head, flamboyant as ever.

Marinette rolled her eyes beneath the mask, trying to suppress the bubbling amusement that followed his theatrics. It would only encourage him to become more radical in his glorification and affections. But she couldn’t help feeling the sting of uselessness. Chat had handled this enemy entirely on his own. How long would it be before he realized that he didn’t need Ladybug and left, independent and tired of being rejected? How long before he dreaded her company just as much as Adrien did? She was never perturbed about conducting her duties alone, she had been saving Paris for months before Chat Noir appeared. But something about his potential absence was upsetting: never to hear those ridiculous puns, or see those flirtatious grins, or celebrate a victory with him ever again. Never to see the adoration that made her feel as though she were truly unique and heroic. Somehow he had become an irrevocable part of her life, just as her family and friends were.

Without meeting his eyes, Marinette retrieved the pair of scissors and snapped them in half over her knee, releasing a small tainted butterfly.

“You’ve done enough harm, little akuma.” She said as she opened her yo-yo for the purification process. “I’m freeing you from evil!” She spun the yo-yo around and around until she captured the blue violet entity and retrieved the device. With a final practiced flick of her wrist, she released the alabaster aviator into the late afternoon sky. “Bye bye, little butterfly!” 

She watched it depart before she turned back to Chat Noir.

“Did you see that Milady? I handled her all by myself! This stray saved the day.” He glowed with pride, revelling in his victory.

She was proud of him, but she couldn’t quite dredge up the recognition he deserved. Her mind was elsewhere, focused on the fact that not only did Adrien not want her but Alya, Chat, and the whole of Paris didn’t need her anymore either.

From afar, a sinister smile formed in the dusk of a concealed room filled with fluttering tufts of snowy insects, creating a cocoon around an immaculately dressed individual.

“How tragic it is when doubt strikes our most prestigious heroine of Paris. With such heavy responsibilities, the stresses of daily life, and the lack of consideration from those around you, it can be terribly difficult to maintain one’s self-worth, no?”

A butterfly landed into his waiting hands, and he infused the once pure insect with every ounce of despair Ladybug was emitting.

“Now fly away, evil akuma! And overtake her righteous heart!” His laughter echoed, demented and recursive.

* * *

 

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, rubbing his knuckles across his chest. “I know I’m irresistible Milady, but I don’t think I’ve ever rendered you so speechless. It’s pawsitively heartening.” 

It was when Ladybug continued to remain silent that Chat lifted his head, his brow furrowing at the lack of deadpan expressions drilling into his head or angry groans invading the surrounding air. His eyes focused with concern on her blank expression, until a fluttering mass caught his attention inches from the yo-yo that now hung lifelessly at her side. His eyes widened and he dashed over to her, a burst of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He wouldn’t-- _couldn’t_ \-- let her be corrupted. She would never forgive herself for whatever she might do in such a state, and he would never be able to forgive himself for his carelessness. He was so consumed in his accomplishment that he didn’t notice the telltale signs of her precarious emotional state.

But she was too far away. By the time he was within a foot of her yo-yo, the vermin had already entered the device, tainting her.

“No,” he gasped. “No no no no no.” He repeated as he tried to gain her attention. She did not respond.

“Now you shall see the world for what it truly is,” Hawkmoth intoned in her mind, “A place where you are not wanted or needed. A place that would not be changed by your absence, where you are as insignificant as the root of your namesake.” 

Her vision was murky and waned, a strange haze lacing every sight. Chat’s figure was distorted, however his words were crystal clear.

“Look at you, absolutely pathetic.” He sneered. “Some heroine of Paris _you_ are. Without the mask you’re just that plain, boring, blathering idiot Marinette that everybody knows to be the resident try-hard. And rightly so, you have nothing noteworthy about you other than your foolhardy persistence. I could never follow or love somebody so wretchedly unappealing. Count me out from here on out. I’m sure that boy, what was his name? Ah yes, Adrien. I’m sure he’s just as appalled by your mousy presence. He barely had the stomach to converse with you, much less join an affable excursion with friends. He will never love the incompetent and unworthy daughter of a mere baker, one too frightened of rejection to spit out her feelings. You’re lucky he gives you the time of day. He deserves someone much more charming and beautiful and honest, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Chat Noir placed his hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently as desperation infected his words. “Ladybug, please, speak to me! Whatever nonsense Hawkmoth is trying to plant inside your head isn’t true! Don’t listen! We can talk about this, whatever it is! I’m sure there is a solu-”

She threw him off violently, her eyes wide and panicked, her voice a pained whisper. “Get away from me.” 

He looked up from the ground in utter shock, her dejection like an icicle slicing straight through his chest, pinning him to the concrete. She was trembling with fear, tears coursing down her mask in streams, staring at him as though he had insulted her to the worst degree possible. As if he had exposed and attacked her every fear and insecurity.

Wait…had he?

He didn’t have the chance to ask before she ran as quickly as she could through the streets of Paris, eager to escape him. He crouched, retrieving his staff to follow suit until a familiar alarm filled the air. A frustrated growl ripped through his chest as he entered a nearby alley way, changing back into his civilian form.

“I don’t have time for this Plagg,” Adrien paced as he waited for his kwami to finish replenishing its energy.

“Cheese must be savored. Plus it’s not like Ladybug will be able to get that far anyway.” He placated. 

“That’s not the point, Plagg!” Adrien fumed. “Did you or did you not see her nearly catatonic state? She looked at me like I verbally ripped her heart out!” He let out a harsh sigh, trying to rein in his anger but it quickly converted to despair, “I can’t imagine what kind of pain Hawkmoth is putting her through. I’ve never seen her cry like that.” He placed a hand over his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m almost done. Deep breaths, Adrien. And what about that double date you skipped out on?”

Adrien frowned, looking down at his companion. “I know it was wrong of me to leave them hanging but Ladybug needs me right now. She will always be my priority. I’ll just explain and patch things up tomorrow, reschedule or something.” He mused.

“We’re all set to go.” Plagg admitted with reluctance, wishing he could eat his cheese and laze about in peace.

“Plagg! Claws out!”

The next two hours of the evening were spent in high speed pursuit of a rather elusive red streak, in which his shouts for her to stop were drowned out by sobs and incoherent shrieks. From the bakery, to the hotel of Le Grand Paris, to the schoolyard, to every conceivable location in Paris she escaped him until he chased her right back to where they had started: the Eiffel Tower.

She was gasping, her breathing shallow and labored as she clutched at her heart, wringing the spotted material at her chest. She fell to one knee as he joined her at the summit of the enormous structure, retracting his staff and holding his arms up in a universal gesture of peace. He had detected the strangely lethargic beating of her heart from afar, but now noted with alarm that it was slowing further with each passing minute. Almost as if it was willing itself to stop. Swallowing his panic, he shoved back all thoughts of what could happen and focused on what needed to happen: he needed to help her regain her senses.

“Please, Milady, let me help you.” He approached her slowly with the utmost care, as he would a startled animal.

She only had the energy to cringe away, curling in on herself and muttering, “No, no more.” she managed in between gasps. “Can’t take Chat Noir hating me anymore. I know I’m no hero. I know I’m not interesting or special. I know nobody needs me or wants me. Stop yelling. Please, stop.” She covered her ears, hunched over.

He froze, paralyzed by the toxicity of her thoughts and choking on assurances, before he steeled himself with determination. He didn’t care what he had to do, even if it meant revealing the depth of his feelings. He was going to get Ladybug back. Stalking forward he lifted her in one lithe movement into his arms, holding her close. In the goldenrod tones of twilight the perspiration on her face glistened, the sky blue eyes he adored darting in every direction but his own before she squeezed them shut, likely trying to push out the traitorous voice he could not hear.

“Let me go!” She cried, her voice feeble. She pushed at his chest, but he did not budge.

“Please,” She begged, near her breaking point. “Let me go.” When he made no move to release her she went limp in his arms, and he cradled her head beside his own.

“Ladybug, I love you,” He began, allowing every emotion he left hidden under each frivolous remark to surface, hoping that his honesty would be enough to break through whatever fabrication Hawkmoth lorded over her. He felt her stiffen, but forced himself to continue. “Always have, always will. I don’t care who you are beneath the mask, I know you’re equally amazing in that form. I don’t care that you doubt yourself sometimes. I doubt myself everyday, but the knowledge that I will always have you beside me gives me the strength to try anyway. Your friends, your family, and I will always want and need you in our lives, even if we don’t expressly say it. Never let a single person, yourself included, ever convince you otherwise. And if you ever doubt the impact of the beauty of who you are, think of me. I never feel more valued or appreciated in a single person’s presence than your own. Think of Paris. You change this city for the better every single day, risking your life to help those in need. Don’t you think it’s time to give yourself a little more credit for all that you do?”

There was an elongated pause before she placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled back just enough to look into his vulnerable eyes with a watery smile, the curve of her lips growing at the honesty she found in his expression. She heard him loud and clear, and she couldn’t deny the burst of positive emotion, perhaps love, that surfaced in return. It was something too pure to be distorted by Hawkmoth’s magic, and they both noticed a small white butterfly emerge from the yo-yo she had dropped minutes ago.

“Thank you, Chat.” She whispered, hugging him tightly back before she heard the alarm on his ring chime. He pulled away reluctantly with his two-fingered signature salute and a wink.

“Anytime, Milady.”

  
And as she watched him leap away, she wondered if she would ever harbor the same love for Adrien when this silly Chat took up so much room in her heart.


	2. All is Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Adrienette and LadyNoir fluff with some DJWifi for good measure. I may or may not have cavities now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for the support everyone, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

The next day Adrien contacted the gang with an earnest apology for his absence and inability to respond to their messages, explaining his father’s last minute addition to his schedule: a four hour photo shoot that had consumed the rest of his day. Adrien, as a result, suggested a gathering at the nearest bowling alley that evening to compensate for the unfortunate mishap. From the bakery the four walked, this time at five o’clock sharp, to their chosen venue. Marinette noticed with glee that Adrien wore his birthday scarf to their outing, grinning at Alya who sent her a thumbs as she retrieved her bowling shoes with Nino.

"Why didn't you tell me you made this?" Adrien asked as they followed suit, fingering one end of the scarf as he did so.

Marinette froze. "Wha-what do you mean? I thought you said your father bought it for you as a birthday present."

With an indulgent smile he flipped over the end of the azure scarf trapped between his fingertips to reveal the faintest signature, sewed into the fabric in a thread of a nearly identical hue.

_ Marinette _ , it read.

She immediately deflated, red creeping up to her cheekbones.

"Care to explain?"

"W-well, when you returned to school the day after I delivered it to your house, you just seemed so happy to receive it from your father... I didn't feel right taking that away from you. I...I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

When she regained the courage to look him in the eye she was shocked at the tender expression on his face, his smile more grateful and animated than she had ever seen it.

"Thank you, Marinette. But why didn't you just put a note with your name on it?"

"Well at first I almost forgot to, but in the end I managed to place one on the box just in time. I'm not sure why you didn't see it."

She seemed just as puzzled as he was, until he remembered that his father usually gave him the same nondescript pen every single year. The kind of pens Natalie used and liked. Almost as though he had placed little to no effort in Adrien’s birthday gifts, delegating the chore to someone else. But he needed his suspicions validated.

“Say, Marinette? When you delivered it to my house, who was it that answered at the gates?”

Marinette blinked, pausing her current train of thought to think back. “A lady in a sharp suit with glasses and dark hair like mine, if I remember correctly. She was pretty terse and seemed frustrated about something.”

He suppressed a sigh as she confirmed his thoughts. Of course, he was just an obligation. Even Natalie was more focused on pleasing his father than being honest with him. She had, despite knowing the effort Marinette must have expended to create something special for him, deliberately disregarded her to compensate for his father’s indifference. He wanted to be livid, for Marinette’s sake at the very least, but all he felt was the same cold rejection that infused his chest every time his father manipulated and avoided him. 

“Oh that sounds about right, I’m sure the note must have fallen off by the time I found it on the table that evening. I just assumed it was my father’s gift to me. I’m sorry, Marinette. I should have realized only you could be so thoughtful.”

Marinette’s face turned scarlet once again. “Oh n-no, not at all! You don’t need to be sorry I’m just really glad you seem to like it.” 

He placed a gentle hand her shoulder, but his trademark blinding smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. She was about to ask if he was okay until Nino and Alya called them over, impatient to begin. 

“C’mon dude!”

“What’s taking you two so long? I have a competition to win!” 

Marinette raised a skeptical brow in Alya’s direction, muttering under her breath, “Funny, this is the first I hear about a competition.”

A brief chuckle sounded directly beside her and she bit her lip, keeping her gaze on the multi-colored carpet as they walked over. Had Adrien actually laughed at her petulance? Why was his laugh just as incredible as his personality and appearance? Did the boy have a single fault? Was that gum on the floor or was she beginning to melt?

“Ready to get your asses kicked?”Alya taunted, eyeing the group with mock menace as she picked up a bowling ball. 

“Don’t be so sure, babe.” Nino winked from the scoreboard, their respective teams of two appearing above on the screen. “Adrien’s new to the game, so I figured we’d make it fair and give him a partner. He’s going to need pointers, and since I don’t want to have my ass handed to me this seemed like the best arrangement.”

Adrien shook his head, amused before he looked to Marinette apologetically. “Guess your stuck with me.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll make you an expert in no time!” She encouraged, flushing dazedly when he grinned back. 

_ Why did that goofy grin remind her of someone?  _

Alya and Nino stood aside, conversing and flirting as Marinette showed him the proper technique. How to move forward quickly, lower the bowling ball, propel his throwing arm back, and then release just as it returned forward. In a quiet, nervous voice she described each step and made sure to move slowly as he watched. Distracted as she was by his eyes on her every move, her aim was skewed and she only managed to knock over the pin farthest to right during her demonstration.

Alya honked a laugh at the sight. “Oh you guys are so gonna get wrecked.”

Marinette’s glower only earned her a wink. She turned back to Adrien, focusing on the space beside his head to keep herself from losing her train of thought or staring at him too long.

“Go ahead and try it a few times,” Marinette handed him a bowling ball.

Adrien nodded, and improved noticeably after two shaky attempts. Quick as ever, he perfected his technique and timing to the point where his fourth trial was a near strike. 

“All right that’s enough tutorial for one evening!” Alya called as she leapt up from Nino’s lap, “Step aside, mortals.”

Turns out, akuma-fighting had its perks. Like making Marinette’s aim with anything spherical otherworldly. Her first strike earned her a smile and a nod from Adrien. Her second strike earned her a thumbs up. Her third strike earned her an impressed look, his brows raised in delighted surprise. Her fourth strike earned her a high-five. With each skillful strike and near strike by Adrien, their score climbed, rivaling Nino and Alya’s superior experience. By the time the game was over, Alya sputtered at the infinitesimal disparity between the final scores.

“Are you kidding me? The bowling pins are screaming!” Alya shouted, gesturing wildly to the other end of the alley. “Marinette why the hell wasn’t I informed about your superpowers?”

Marinette froze, thinking of her identity as Ladybug before remembering the context. She shrugged, relishing her victory a bit. “Sucks to suck.”

At that point Adrien was shaking with laughter, the sound uninhibited by his polite reticence and bashful nature. Glancing over at where he was listening behind the scoreboard with Nino, she noticed the absolute freedom of his expression and smiled at how much he was enjoying himself, nudging Nino and sparking more laughter. She sighed, watching intently before Alya waved a hand in her face.

“Earth to space cadet, planet Adrien can wait.” 

“Hm?”

“He sure looks happy, huh?” Alya followed her gaze, placing an arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “Sometimes I wish we could do more for the kid.”

Marinette frowned at the floor, remembering his distant looks when he talked about his father and his dejected expression every time he entered the company limo while the rest of the students walked home with their friends, much like Marinette and Alya did. Sure her family was invasive and she craved privacy at times, but she couldn’t imagine an entire life of solitude. To go home alone, to eat alone, to wake up alone...she wondered at his ability to remain positive. 

“Ready to go?” asked Nino as he and Adrien approached. “Me and Alya are buying as promised.”

“I think we need another moment to revel in our victory. Pound it!” Adrien held out his fist to Marinette, a mischievous grin that belonged to someone else curling his lips.

A wave of deja vu struck Marinette like a freight train.  _ Chat Noir? _ The thought made her falter for a short second before she waved it off, returning the gesture with a smile. 

* * *

 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

A loud explosion followed their near exit to obtain dinner, resulting in Adrien’s hasty request to use the bathroom. Without turning back Marinette pushed her friends out the door, telling them that she would merely wait a moment for Adrien before doing the same. Dashing over to the bathroom herself she changed into Ladybug the moment it was empty, bursting out to find Chat Noir taunting the enemy. 

“Can’t  _ pin  _ me down!” He smirked, dodging the grasp of the akumatized victim.

Marinette groaned as she joined him at the opposite end of the bowling alley, taking in their opponent. An enormous, furious, talking bowling ball, not unlike mascot of the establishment.

“Impeccable timing, Milady. You are about to witness the  _ strike _ of the century.”

Marinette rubbed her temples. “Enough of that, kitty cat. Tell me what we know so far.”

Adrien jumped out of the way of a sweeping arm in the shape of a bowling pin, and ducked from a second one as Ladybug took the aerial route with her yo-yo.

“Bowling alley attendant, frustrated by disrespectful kids that show up. My best bet is the hat.” He grunted as he continued to move sinuously out of the way. 

“Okay, I have an idea but I’ll need a distraction,” She said as she appeared behind him.

“Can do, Bugaboo.” He retrieved his staff and began toppling the enemy, dancing out of reach each time the rotund opponent struggled to get up and retaliate.

“You brats are all the same!” The victim bellowed. 

“Oh,  _ spare _ me.” 

Ladybug briefly considered leaving him to fight alone before thinking better of it.  _ Better move fast, Chat could only hold out so long _ . “Lucky charm!”

A bundle of spotted rope fell into her open arms and she sighed. Her options were numerous, but she knew she had to decide on something. She focused on the red and yellow hat resting precariously on top of the spherical head. Tying a knot at one end, she swung the rope along with her yo-yo, swinging to the corner where Chat was waiting. Chat smirked at the sight of his favorite lady, making sure to remain the focus of the battle as she tried to remove the hat. But when she did remove the hat and tore it in half, nothing happened.

She stared at it, shocked, and didn’t see the oncoming attack. 

“Ladybug!” Chat shouted, extending the staff to intercept the underhanded blow from his cornered position.   
  
He managed to divert most of the impact with his staff, the swipe only grazing her shoulder. He gritted his teeth, withholding a curse at her visible wince.   
  
"Are you all right, Milady?"    
  
"Just fine, Chat," She swung out of reach with her good arm, "But we need another target."    
  
There was a pause as she took in the scene, dodging as Chat maintained his role. She noticed that his strikes were much more violent, each connection between the pin arm and staff growing louder. His reservation was gone, emerald eyes ablaze as he toppled the victim with a final crash. He was about to charge again when Marinette noticed the darkened employee tag and pulled it to her in one lithe swing. Crushing it between her fingertips, she purified the fluttering akuma before Chat approached her, sulking. His ears drooped and his tail lagged behind him, and he remained unresponsive to her held out fist.    
  
"How bad is it?" He asked, remorse coloring his usual drawl. It wasn’t the first time he beat himself up about her battle injuries.   
  
She sighed, resisting the urge to rub her affliction. "It barely touched me, but I shouldn't have gotten so distracted in the middle of the fight.” 

Maybe it was Chat Noir's earlier confession, maybe it was how well the night had gone with Adrien, or maybe it was her lack of time to reassure him properly. But she stepped forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Thanks for the save, mon minou." She murmured close to his ear.

He stiffened, thoroughly shocked before tentative arms rose to wrap around her waist. Her scent was intoxicating, amplified by his improved senses in this form, carrying the scent of cinnamon, vanilla, and just the faintest trace of baked bread. A low purr emitted from his chest unbidden, and an adorable giggle followed before the familiar alarm of her miraculous engendered a hasty departure. 

“See you around, kitty cat.”

She disentangled herself with a wink before she dashed out of the building, looking for Adrien. The emptiness of the building and the surrounding parking lot suggested that he had headed home, much as the other civilians had. 

Chat sighed, resisting the urge to chase after her as he revelled in the lingering warmth of her arms around his neck, the feeling of her body pressed briefly against his. He couldn’t remember a time when he had felt so comforted by another being’s presence in his entire life. Not to mention one of the most stunning, intelligent, and compassionate beings in all of Paris. She was truly without equal. Instead he went home, fawning over the fact that Ladybug had hugged him of her own volition. Part of him weighed the pros and cons of never being Adrien Agreste again.

When Marinette reached her room, she marveled at her ability to speak clearly to Adrien that night, twirling about her room at the thought. She had finally been able to hold a semi-conversation with him without confusing him or making him uncomfortable. But as she considered why, she froze, remembering how she had projected Chat’s actions onto him that evening. Had it been because Chat had confessed his feelings? 

She paused at her desk, her eyes lingering on a picture of Adrien before she turned to Tikki who was watching her pensive expression with curiosity.

“What’s the matter, Marinette?”

“...Do you think I should give him a chance?” 

Tikki smiled brightly. “Give whom a chance?”

“Chat Noir.” Marinette bit her lip.

The sweet kwami hovered for a moment in thought before she landed on Marinette’s shoulder. “I think that decision should be yours. Think long and hard, and take your time to consider. Who is it that you can’t imagine life without?”

Had someone asked Marinette weeks ago, the answer without question would have been Adrien.

  
Now she wasn’t so sure.


End file.
